You're a Good Man
by AlyB123
Summary: Short Keenler one-shot for my Tumblr friends in honor of Valentine's Day.


Liz sinks into the chair and stretches her legs under the desk. It feels really good to sit. She's been following Reddington around all day and everything hurts. Her legs, her back… she used to have so much energy, but lately? Everything feels slow. She hardly recognizes her own body. She can't remember the last time she slept through the night. She keeps tossing, turning, trying to get comfortable. She can't sleep comfortably on her back anymore, only on her left side with a pillow between her legs, a pillow under her belly. But none of it really helps. She feels off balance, all the time. It's unsettling. Everyone says she should rest before the baby is born, but how is she supposed to do that, feeling this way?

She closes her eyes and runs her hands over her belly. It's so firm now, where it was soft before. Everything feels stretched taut – her skin, her muscles. _Will my body ever been the same again?_ She feels like a balloon ready to burst, but instead of air there's life inside. It felt like tiny bubbles at first. Then like the flutter of butterfly wings. Now? It's like waves. Undulating.

Except right now, the baby's quiet. No movement. She always feels anxious when that happens. The movement is reassurance that the baby is fine. But she hasn't eaten in a few hours. She hasn't been drinking either, at least not as much as the doctor says she should. She reaches into her drawer and pulls out some crackers and a bottle of water. Sure enough, ten minutes later and she feels it. Baby's awake. She smiles. The rolling motion starts on the left and moves the right. She watches as a small impression flits across her belly. Is it a foot? A hand? An elbow? Hard to say. But she pushes her hand against it with a smile and welcomes the response.

"You ok, Liz?" The voice snaps her out of her reverie and she looks up to see Ressler in the office doorway.

"I'm fine. Just resting - it was a long day." She smiles, and his face relaxes. He comes in and sits down at his desk. "You look tired," he says.

"I am," she sighs. But the movement inside is increasing and she can't help but flinch as a well-placed kick causes a twinge.

She looks up and realizes he's still watching her, confusion and concern mixed on his face. And she realizes she wants to share this moment with him.

"Come here," she says with a smile, beckoning. He looks at her questioningly for a moment, but gets up sits on the corner of her desk. She reaches out for his hand and pulls it until it's resting on her belly. He looks at her quizzically, but she holds up a finger with her free hand and keeps the other pressed firmly over his against her belly.

A few seconds pass and then…PUSH….right against Ressler's hand. She watches as his expression changes from puzzlement to wonder in a split second as his hand rises and falls with the movement, all of his attention directed against her belly.

"Was that…?" He looks up at her, his eyes wide.

"Yes," she laughs. "Wait another minute – I just ate so you should feel something again in just a second."

Sure enough, another undulating motion, but this time the shape of a tiny foot is unmistakable under her tight shirt. Ressler pushes against it lightly and the foot disappears, only to reappear seconds later in almost the same spot.

"That's amazing," he says. And as he grins at her, she can't help but think that it's the first genuine smile she's seen from him in weeks – maybe months. She returns the grin. She misses him. She misses their closeness. Things haven't been the same between them since she told him she was pregnant. It's understandable. But it's hard, nonetheless. Now that Tom is out of the picture, she's hoping they can regain that closeness somehow. But it's going to take time.

"Reddington needs to slow down with you." His grin is gone, replaced once again by concern.

She shakes her head, "If Reddington had his way, I'd never leave the apartment. I'd sit there all day waiting to pop with his loyal guard dogs across the hall waiting for me to summon them. I'm following him around because I need to get out of the house – I need to _do_ something."

"Liz – you've got to slow down. You've got to take care of yourself." His brow is furrowed.

"I know," she sighs. "I'm trying. I probably overdid it today." She pushes back from the desk and shows him her ankles, puffed and swollen.

"Take off your shoes," he says. And now it's her turn to look at him, quizzically.

"Take them off. Give me your foot."

She obliges and slides her chair back until her left foot is resting in his lap. He begins to rub circles, gentle but firm, massaging her arch, her toes, and her ankle, both of his hands pressing and kneading. She leans back and closes her eyes. It feels heavenly.

"Give me the other one, too."

She opens her eyes long enough to see him looking at her with a gentle smile. She slides her right foot out of its shoe and gives into the absolute pleasure of his hands rubbing and kneading, alternating between each foot.

"Where did you learn to do this?" she breathes.

He chuckles softly. "I used to watch my dad give my mom foot rubs when I was a kid when she'd had a hard day at work. She always loved them."

She opens her eyes at that. He's never really talked about his family with her. It's something she's always been curious about. She knows his father is dead – he'd mentioned that somewhere along the way. But he rarely discusses his mother. She's not sure why.

"He sounds like a good man," she says, softly.

"He was." His face and tone invite no further discussion and she closes her eyes once more, giving in to the blissful warmth and pressure of his hands.

He keeps going longer than she would have expected. When he finally stops, she eases her feet back on to the floor and takes his hands in hers.

"Thank you," she says, simply. And presses a kiss on to the back of his freckled hands. He smiles and gets up and touches her hair, briefly, before settling back into his own chair.

And as he bows his head over his computer, she watches him and thinks, "you're a good man, too, Donald Ressler."


End file.
